The Hetalia Global Warming Crisis; Get Out Alive
14—The Betrayal
~~Canada~~
"Getting closer now, mes amis?"
Matthew opened his eyes only to find himself face-to-face with Francis. He yelped in surprise, and would have fallen off the couch if it wasn't for Gilbert, who had an arm around his waist.
"Are you jealous?" the Prussian sneered, stifling a laugh.
"What?" rasped Matthew, stuck between the Frenchman and the albino.
"See how nice Canada and Prussia look?" Antonio exclaimed, turning to South Italy and spreading his arms wide. "Why don't you come over here and give Boss Spain a hug, Romano?"
"What the hell?" Lovino spat, leaping up from his spot on the floor to hide behind a chair. "Not in a million years, jackass!"
"Could you please just shut up for once?" Germany growled, sitting up and rubbing his forehead.
Matthew looked around the room. Everyone else was waking up, blinking and stretching. Russia, China, Japan, and Germany stood up and glanced at France, Prussia, Spain, and Romano, who had woken them up. Ludwig tapped Feliciano with the tip of his boot, but the Italian continued to sleep.
"Are you aright, Canada-san?" Kiku murmured as Matthew and Gilbert sat up on the couch.
"Yeah…" replied the younger country, stealing a sideways glance at the Prussian. Gilbert was grinning at him and ignoring Francis, but his cheeks were red in embarrassment.
Kiku smiled and turned to the kitchen. "I guess it's time to make breakfast."
Matthew stood up suddenly, surprising everyone else. "Can you make pancakes? Or better… waffles? I have some maple syrup in my bag." As if on cue, Kumajiro padded up and held out a small bottle of the sweet liquid.
"Well…" Kiku hesitated. He was planning to make sushi.
"Come on," Gilbert exclaimed, jumping up beside Matthew. "We'll make some together!"
"Pasta!" North Italy suddenly exclaimed in his sleep. The other countries murmured in amusement.
Laughing, Gilbert grabbed Matthew's wrist and tugged him into the kitchen with Kiku following close behind. Matthew, catching onto the good mood, smiled and followed without protest, but he couldn't help but worry about Arthur and his brother.
Where are you? He thought helplessly. Are you still okay? Please come back safely…
~~America~~
Alfred woke to find himself shackled with his back against a wall, his limbs spread out in an 'X' shape. Groaning, he glanced to his right and spotted Arthur, shackled to the wall in a set of heavy chains, slumped against the brick wall as if he was tossed there like a discarded ragdoll. They had only their trousers on; their captive had stripped them of their boots, shirts, and weapons. The small man stirred, the chains rattling and scraping on the ground as he moved.
The American dragged his gaze from his companion and scanned the room, which was dark, save for the light which apparently shone down on him and England. He tried to strain against the bonds, but it was impossible to break free. Alfred stopped trying and gasped for breath, shocked. Never before had he been unable to break anything with his superhuman strength. He met Arthur's eyes and saw the same shock reflected in the green depths. The Brit suddenly turned and savagely tore at the chains surrounding him, muttering curses and spells under his breath.
"It's hopeless to fight," purred a familiar if not triumphant voice. "I know exactly what your strengths and weaknesses are; no matter what you do, you will not be able to break free."
"You!" Alfred exclaimed rather dramatically as the red-eyed woman stepped into the light before them.
She adjusted her glasses and glanced at her clipboard. "The United States of America; a country with surprisingly superhuman strength, yet not very clever and has no magical abilities whatsoever."
England couldn't suppress his short burst of laughter at the description. Alfred gritted his teeth and glared at his companion, silently swearing he would get back at him somehow. No one insults the hero!
"The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, or more commonly known as England," the stranger continued, clearly eager to see the Brit's reaction. "You have three other siblings: Wales, Ireland, and Scotland, but out of the four you are the only one responsible enough to bother representing your entire country. You have great amounts of magical ability, which even surpasses our most gifted sorcerer, and you practise in the dark arts, which earns much respect. However, you are physically weaker than many of the other countries, and you let your temper get the better of you, which ends up being your downfall in many conflicts."
Arthur bit his tongue and emitted a low growl instead of the curses he held on his tongue. There was no need to prove to the women that what she said was correct.
"Ah yes," she sighed, strolling over to Alfred and putting a hand on his bare chest. "I know everything."
She drew her face up closer to the American's and he recoiled, flattening himself against the wall as he tried to escape from her hypnotic red eyes.
"Everything," she whispered, "except your True Names."
Arthur whimpered involuntarily and shrank back, the chains coiling around him. Like a snake, the young woman was suddenly looming over him, her fang-like teeth bared in a savage grin.
"Yes," she hissed, "the magician here knows. In order to control the countries, I must obtain power over them first. The only way to gain power over another being is to know their name. Only the countries themselves know each other's names. I just need one of you to tell me."
Alfred wasn't listening. Sweat gleamed on his bare skin and ran down his face. The weird scientist had power, power he had never seen before in any other country. And it scared him.
"Arth…" Alfred began, but the older nation spoke over him.
"America, you bloody idiot!" snapped Arthur. "Call me England! England! It's my name she wants! Don't say it!"
"SAY IT!" cried the red-eyed woman, spinning around and catching Alfred's eyes with her own. "Tell me what you were about to say!"
Alfred screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head vigorously and pressing his lips together.
"Very well, I'll force it out of you!"
A thud sounded, followed by a groan that was cut off by a sharp crack and England's howl of pain. Alfred's eyes flew open and he saw his friend lying on the floor with a boot to his head and his cheek planted to the ground. With a barbed whip raised and a sadistic expression on his face was the blue-black eyed man in the wind-breaker, gazing down at England like a lynx ready to kill a rabbit.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you yet," the man sneered as he ground his boot harder into Arthur's head, bringing tears to the small nation's emerald eyes.
"Stop it!" cried Alfred, unable to watch Arthur being treated in such a manner. "Just leave him alone!"
The man's weight slackened and Arthur snarled at Alfred. "Don't tell them, you bloody git! I'd rather die than be controlled by—"
Arthur's words rose to a high-pitched wail as the sharp end of the whip ripped his back open. Blood spattered the floor around him as he lay gasping, unable to speak as he tried to fight the pain.
"Shut up!" snapped the woman, who was by Alfred's side.
Ignoring the command, England swallowed and gazed up at America, green eyes dull with pain.
"Don't… tell them," he panted. "That's an order… bloody git."
The whip connected with his back again and he let out a weaker cry, and then fell silent.
The room was quiet except for Arthur's laboured breathing. The enemies were looking at America expectantly.
"If you tell us, we'll end this pathetic country's suffering," said the man in his gravelly voice.
"Well?" the woman prompted.
Alfred looked down at England, at the blood that stained the floor around him. Then he looked at his own bare chest, gleaming with sweat. He knew what was coming next, and he couldn't believe what he was about to say. He looked up and grinned.
"Sorry," America smirked. "Orders are orders."
The two enemies stared at him in dumbfounded bewilderment. Arthur coughed up clots of blood as he forced a faint chuckle.
"There's one thing you forgot to add to that list," Alfred continued, his smile broadening. "Countries are very loyal to their allies."
"Of course they are," the woman smiled smugly, getting over her initial shock. "But then how would you explain this?"
There was a crack of another whip echoing in the shadows. Alfred winced as he guessed who it was for. His breathing quickened and cold sweat broke on his brow. How was he going to get out of this mess?
"Meet our newest member," the woman hissed.
Stepping into the light, brandishing a barbed whip in one hand and a boomerang in the other, was Australia.
"Greetings, friends," he said in a flat, expressionless tone.
Speechless, Alfred and Arthur could do nothing but stare as Australia raised his whip and brought it down across America's chest.
~~Canada~~
Canada let out a wail of pure agony and he clutched his chest, collapsing onto the kitchen floor.
"Canada-san!" Japan exclaimed, setting the plate of rice on the table and kneeling down beside the young nation. "What is wrong?"
"Canada!" Gilbert got down on one knee in front of the shaking country and gripped his shoulders. "Say something!"
Matthew crouched, gasping for breath, tears springing into his eyes. White-hot pain shot across his chest nine more times and he bit his tongue to stop form crying out. When it was over, he was sweating and trembling. He collapsed into Prussia's arms, whimpering.
"What happened?" Kiku prodded gently as Gilbert stroked Matthew's back comfortingly.
Matthew looked up and opened his mouth, but ended up having to spit out clots of blood. Gilbert and Kiku winced; the small country had bitten his tongue so hard it bled.
"America… and I have a… connection," Matthew stammered, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. "Anything that happens to him affects me, whether it's politically, economically, or…" he gulped, "physically."
The nations who had gathered to see what the commotion was about felt their blood run cold.
"Does that mean…?" Kiku murmured, afraid to finish his sentence.
"Somewhere in this building, America is being tormented for information," Canada whispered, clutching his chest and bowing his head. Blood dripped from his mouth as he continued to bite his tongue. "England and America are in trouble, and it's my fault."
Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya
I love to torture characters, sorry.
It gets worse in every arch by the way, so if you don't like it, I suggest you turn back while it's still... mild.
PLEASE REVEIW!